Helpless Guilt
by HP Slash Luv
Summary: He would make sure he never forgot. Warning: Past Non-con.


**Title:** Helpless Guilt  
 **Rating:** T  
 **Pairing(s)/Character(s):** Lucius/Narcissa  
 **Warnings:** Non-Con  
 **Disclaimer:** Don't own 'em - not making any money off 'em. Dern it.  
 **Word Count:** 1,002  
 **Summary:** He would make sure he never forgot.

 **Notes:**

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry: **Defense Against the Dark Arts - Task 2 - Write about someone reliving their most painful memory over and over (please include warnings where appropriate).

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry: **Scavenger Hunt

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry: **Jewel Day Challenge - Actinolite - Bracelet: Write about someone with a heart-condition (this can be either medical or emotional like a break-up)

* * *

Lucius looked at the pensieve. He knew he was acting like a masochist, continuously torturing himself with the same memory, but it was how he was going to make sure he never made a similar mistake.

He would continuously remind himself of what could happen if Lucius followed the wrong person. He would remind himself that he wasn't the only one who suffered but the people who loved him and who he loved did as well.

With a shuddering breath, Lucius peered into the pensieve and found himself in the memory that would forever haunt him.

Narcissa, usually beautiful and pristine, sat on the floor. Her dress was ripped and dirt smudged her skin, ruining what should have the utmost perfection in terms of beauty.

Her eyes were filled with tears, but she didn't make any noise. Even during the worse moment of her life, she held strong and showed everyone how brave she truly was.

The Dark Lord, the wizard the Lucius had pled undying devotion to for so many years, fingered his wand while an ugly smirk marred his face.

There were a couple of followers there, watching. This was being used an example to them of what might happen if they displease Voldemort.

Lucius was in shackles a few feet away. He had been unconscious for a while, but the Dark Lord in his infinite wisdom decided to wait until he woke up in order to see everything that happened. And now, he was forced to watch, unable to do anything for Narcissa. The only thing he was thankful for was the fact Draco wasn't there to witness it as well.

Her body shook as she glared at Voldemort. "No matter what you do to me, you won't break me," she hissed.

That didn't anger the Dark Lord, though. Instead, he only smirked wider. "Oh my dear Narcissa. This isn't about breaking you. It's about punishing one of my most loyal followers for failing me way too many times."

And Lucius, Present and Past Lucius, watched as Voldemort shed his robes and strolled over to Narcissa with an easy gait, as he didn't have a care in the world.

He grabbed her by the throat and pushed her so was laying down.

Narcissa cringed and kicked, trying to get away, but there was no use. A hand roughly ripped her dressed off of her, exposing her to everyone that was in the room.

And then Lucius was inside her, brutally thrusting in and out of her petite body, uncaring and probably relishing her dreadful screams of agony.

"Yes!" Voldemort bellowed in ecstasy.

Lucius, sick to his stomach, watched as Narcissa thrashed, trying to get away but held to the ground by hands that hurt, her body being abused in the worse possible way.

It was over after what seem like way too long of a time, and Lucius was forced to watch her cry helplessly, all show of bravery and strength gone in her pain.

He knew she was hurt, and it was his fault, and there was nothing he'd ever be able to do make it better for her. And he certainly would never deserve any kind of forgiveness or understanding.

She was in pain, and it was his fault. It should have been him. Not Narcissa. Never Narcissa. She didn't deserve it.

Lucius came out of the pensieve, his cheeks wet with tears as the memory replayed in his head. It was on an endless loop, but he still tortured himself by actually watching the memory every day.

He had to remember to be careful, that his actions had consequences for those around him. He didn't think he'd ever forget, but he still watched the memory. Narcissa had to live with what happened ever day. The least he could do was suffer for his part in it.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, staring without actually seeing the pensieve, but Narcissa found him. "You need to stop this," she stated.

Lucius didn't answer, but he did look at her. She was so breathtakingly beautiful and her strength made her even more beautiful in his eyes.

"I never blamed you for it."

"You should have," he weakly retorted.

Narcissa walked closer to him. "I blame you for some things. I blame you for our Manor housing him. I blame you for Draco following in your footsteps. I blame you for my estrangement from Andromeda because you took the Mark all of those years ago. I don't blame you for that night because I know you would have done anything you could to stop it from happening. You might have been one of Voldemort's followers, but you were a husband and father first, and you would have stopped it if you could have."

"But I couldn't. I failed you."

Narcissa gripped his hand. "You need to stop living in the past. You say you failed me that day. Well, you're failing me now. I need my husband to help me move past it. I need him to hold me when I have nightmares and listen when I want to talk or rant or cry about it. I need him to tell me that I'm not alone and it's okay to let loose and just feel. Instead, he's wallowing in guilt and self-pity, and I'm dealing with it alone. Why don't you stop thinking about yourself and instead, _be there_ for me?"

Lucius pulled her into his arms. "I'm sorry, Narcissa."

"Stop saying sorry and just be there for me," she ordered as she clutched him.

Lucius held her. She was right. Instead of thinking about how he could help her, he had only been thinking about himself. Once again, she was suffering, and he wasn't doing anything for her.

No more. He would somehow act like he was worthy of her. And the first step was to be there for her as she healed.

He'd hold her, and love her, and if she fell, he'd catch her.


End file.
